fashion blogger, book one // phan (EDITING)

Forty Three

"But it's true."

"I think they're pretty boring. They're just brown."

"I think they're gorgeous."

I smiled a little. "Well, thank you, then."

"I mean it," he then said, and with a careful movement he cupped my cheeks with both of his hands. "I don't think you realise how handsome you are."

I rolled my eyes, mainly to hide the fact I didn't know how to deal with his words. "Stop, you're making me blush."

"Good," he whispered and grinned. One of his hands left my cheek and he placed his lips on them instead. After that, his forehead rested against mine. He closed his eyes.

"You can still go, you know. I'll find a way to handle the situation on my own."

"Shut up, asshat."

He chuckled a bit and I smiled. "I'm just saying, it's your decision."

"And I made my decision, how many times do I have to tell you that?"

Phil sighed before he smiled. "Alright." He kissed my lips for a few short seconds, but before I could even think of demanding anything more, he had already pulled away again. "So, you need any help editing the video?"

I sighed and then laughed quietly.

* * *

"Dan, bloody hell, this is the seventh outfit you're showing me."

"I just can't decide!"

"It's just your parents, princess."

"Stop calling me princess."

Phil laughed. "But why, princess? It's so accurate."

"You little..." I ran over to him and pushed him down on the bed while tickling him. The sound of his laugh ran through my body and I started laughing, too. I had his hips straddled between my legs which made it impossible for him to get away.

"Dan, stop!"

"Will you stop calling me princess?"

He didn't say anything, so I attacked him again. "Ahh! Okay, okay, I'll stop!"

"Good," I mumbled before I kissed his cheek and then climbed off his hips. "So, do you think I can wear this?"

Phil laughed. "Daaan." He let himself fall back onto the bed.

"Goddamn, what's the point in having a boyfriend when he can't even help you choosing your clothes?"

"It's just your parents visiting you!" He chuckled and sat up again.

"It doesn't matter if it's my parents or the Beckhams, I want to be well dressed either way."

"Jesus Christ, what did I get myself into." He chuckled again. "I liked the one with the striped shirt."

"But that one's so basic!" I let myself fall down next to him on my bed. He was still sitting up but took my hand.

"I mean, look at me," he said, "I'm just sitting here with a red plaid shirt and skinny jeans."

"But it's a button up shirt so it is like the perfect mix of casual and formal and I just-"

"Dan, what is this really about?"